Happy Home
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: When the Z Fighters are away, their wives will play. But it's difficult to prevent oneself from developing feelings when one knows their playmate so well. Femmeslash.


I was in the mood for something a little sweet and slashy and I haven't had the pleasure of working with these two lovelies.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own. Thank you, **Espada Harribel** , for your wisdom and guidance.

— **Happy Home—**

It wasn't uncommon for Vegeta to leave for days or weeks at a time to protect the world from some new threat to life as they knew it. At first, Bulma had dreaded those stretches of time, barely sleeping or eating while she awaited her then-boyfriend's return. Over time, however, she had learned that her worry was misplaced and her time was better spent improving the innovative technology Capsule Corp was known for.

With someone as powerful and apparently indestructible as Goku on his side, there was never any real danger. And Bulma herself had developed better, more accurate ways to track down the wish-granting Dragon Balls, which served as a great safety net in the case that things did go south.

Currently, the blue haired tech whiz was in the garage, performing maintenance work on one of the spherical Capsule Corp ships. After further development, she had managed to nearly double their speed while maintaining the same fuel intake and she really just needed to make the finishing touches. Her screwdriver clattered to the ground and rolled away some distance, halting progress, and the woman sighed. It had been a pain wedging herself beneath this thing and now—

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and she called, "Hey! You mind giving me a hand?"

The footsteps paused and then resumed, growing louder as they approached. SinceSince her husband was gone, that could only be one of three people.

 _/ The beautiful blonde woman sat stock still, the scanner rendering an image of her iris for the security system's records. She had already been fingerprinted and the AI recognized her voice now as well._

 _This was the last step and it seemed so much more momentous than simply being handed a house key._

 _Bulma mused that she hadn't felt even the slightest bit anxious when Vegeta had moved in, yet her stomach was turning somersaults at the prospect of the android having complete access to her home. She pushed her tools around idly, thinking that since they'd become intimate, simple acts like this had taken on new meaning. After all, Krillin had given her a house key ages ago with the assumption that she and his wife would be close friends._

 _If only the poor sap knew._

 _"That's the fifth time you've completely rearranged your desk," 18 remarked quietly, leaning back now that the scanner had done its job. How she had noticed that, Bulma wasn't sure, but she felt her face heat. "Is everything okay?"_

 _"Peachy." How could she explain how much this meant to her? The automaton would think she was silly. "Want to grab lunch?"_

 _"My treat."/_

Presently, plain white boots came into view and Bulma smiled as their wearer stooped to retrieve the tool. A moment later, a loud creak made her flinch and the entire ship rose a few inches until, sure enough, she was face to bemused face with a blonde woman.

It was so easy to forget, what with such a beautiful form, that the android was inhumanly strong.

"Hey... 18." She tried her best to sound casual and berated herself silently upon failing.

The blonde smiled slightly and offered her the tool, which she accepted gratefully. "Shouldn't this be elevated? That looks terribly uncomfortable."

Her brain cells engaged, albeit slowly. "Jack's busted. I had to improvise on such short notice."

It usually took specialized machinery to lift something so cumbersome—in both shape and mass—and yet, 18 made it look easy as she raised the giant metal sphere a little higher.

"Allow me to lend a hand."

"Thanks."

Things went a lot more smoothly with the android's assistance, but it was still some time after noon that they finished. Bulma knew the other woman hadn't stopped by just to be helpful, but she didn't complain or rush her as the hours passed. She was a wonderful conversationalist and was unsurprisingly knowledgeable about mechanics.

When Bulma offered to make them both dinner, her rumbling stomach reminding her that she had skipped lunch again, the android offered to help once again. She wouldn't take no for an answer when her hostess insisted that it wasn't necessary because she was a guest, and the next hour saw the duo chopping, peeling, and frying. They both knew "guest" wasn't quite an accurate way to describe the android, who moved about the kitchen with the practiced ease of one who had been here many times before.

 _/"You're early," Bulma squeaked. She was in sweat pants and those were covered in flour from the cake she had decided would be a perfect end to what she hoped would be a perfect dinner and her hair was a frizzy mess._

 _18 arched an eyebrow, but didn't comment as she raised the bottle of wine she had been asked to bring. "Glasses?"_

 _"Uh.. right... Top right cabinet over the fridge. She'd be lying if she said she didn't check out 18's backside as the blonde reached up to access the aforementioned cabinet. "Dinner's almost ready. I'm going to grab a quick shower, so if you want to put something on, I've got movies on the entertainment system shelves._

 _She didn't wait for 18 to respond as she hurried off, dragging a self conscious hand through blue hair._

 _When Bulma returned, a towel around her shoulders to stop her hair from drenching her shirt, the blonde was channel surfing listlessly, her expression unimpressed. Apparently she hadn't found anything amidst the admittedly large selection of rom-coms. She perked up when the next channel depicted a large structure being torn to shreds by an explosion, which was strangely endearing._

 _It was then that she noticed dinner was laid out on the coffee table and opened her mouth to question it, but thought better of it. 18 seemed quite comfortable and she lowered herself to the couch cushion pile next to the android./_

When Bulma asked her to start a movie, she obediently disappeared into the living room, and the blue-haired opened a bottle of wine and poured some into glasses for the both of them. She knew it wouldn't affect the automaton just as the meal she would be partaking in was due to a sense of politeness rather than necessity, but she also knew 18 would appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

They'd spent many a late night discussing the ramifications of being a cybernetic woman. It had taken 18 some time to open up about it and Bulma was still learning new things about her. Though she had never quite come out and said it outright, the blue-haired woman knew it bothered her when she felt out of place-at odds with the humans she lived among, her super strength and immortality aside. Though she fit right in with the Saiyans considering those two traits...

The blonde returned, wordlessly picking up their dinners and moving them to the coffee table in front of the giant flatscreen while Bulma followed behind her with their drinks. 18 had already pushed the sofa backwards and placed the cushions next to the table so that they could sit comfortably, and she set their food down before moving to take the glasses from Bulma, who could only shake her head and smile.

She was such a gentlewoman.

"What are we watching?"

Watching wasn't an quite an accurate way to describe what Bulma would be doing. Sure, the movie would play, but just like every time before, she would be lost in her own thoughts. Thoughts regarding the blonde android who she'd be stealing glances at for the remainder of the night. There was just something about 18 that drew her in.

This wasn't fair to Vegeta or Krillin, but she wasn't able to stop herself—try as she might.

18 shrugged. "Some action movie. It had four and a half stars out of five, so it can't be terrible."

Predictable. Still, anticipation that had nothing to do with the beginning action sequence on screen made her antsy. She knew exactly how the night would go; it was like a ritual by now. She would have sworn that this was the android's way of teasing her if she didn't know better. This tortuously mundane buildup was something that 18 actually enjoyed and, though Bulma would be tearing her hair out in frustration by the end of it, the light at the end of the tunnel was well worth the wait.

The movie ended without incident—no groping, no kissing, no cuddling—and Bulma rose quickly to take care of the dishes before the blonde could. When she returned to the living room, the other woman was nowhere to be found and she headed upstairs.

 _/Steam curled around the bathroom, little tendrils of vapour that clung to the skin in a sticky layer like sweat._

 _In this enclosed space, it managed to almost obscure vision and Bulma squinted as she half felt her way to the tub._

 _She released a pained hiss, recoiling, and she would have slipped and fallen has 18 not been there to catch her._

 _The blonde cradled her, frowning. "... Too hot?"_

 _Bulma nodded, her heart in her throat. She wanted nothing more to kiss away the reproachful expression on the android's face._

 _"Sorry."/_

In the master bathroom, 18 had set out towels by the side of the tub and a layer of bubbles covered the surface of the water. The steam that wafted about was thin and wispy. When Bulma dipped a toe in, she sighed.

Perfect.

She removed her clothes, her attention on the movement coming from the adjacent room. From the sound of it, 18 was also getting together Bulma's typical nightwear and likely borrowing something for herself.

 _Not that it would remain on for long_ , Bulma mused.

The blue-haired woman lowered herself into the tub, a blissful sigh leaving her as the warmth eased away the tension in her muscles. She hadn't realized it until this very moment, but she'd been wound up tight—likely from half an afternoon spent cramped underneath a ship. Blue eyes fluttered shut and she sank down until her chin touched the water.

Why didn't she do this more often?

The bathroom door creaked open and 18 came in, pushing it shut behind her. As the android began undressing, her movements measured and methodical, a little thrill of excitement went through the woman in the tub.

Right. She usually lacked the one person who made it perfect.

Her gaze slid appreciatively from the blonde's lovely face and made its way down, along the pale column of her throat, lingering around breasts that had proven to be a little more than a handful, and continuing lower. She was fit, her flat stomach showing the faint outline of her abdominal muscles, and long, slender legs met at a smooth-shaven v.

She was perfect—literally so, thanks to her cybernetic nature.

18 smiled faintly when their gazes met and Bulma frowned at the dull sheen to impossibly blue eyes. When the blonde joined her in the tub, sitting between her legs, she wrapped her arms around a slender waist and rested her chin on 18's shoulder.

18 was unexpectedly prone to small, affectionate gestures. Normally, this was the part where she rested her arms over Bulma's or threaded their fingers together. When she wordlessly reached for the loofah instead, a red flag went off at the back of the inventor's brilliant mind.

"Is something bothering you, 18?"

"I'm... not sure."

Okay, that was an unexpected response. Bulma shifted so that she could see 18's face; her smile was likely meant to be comforting, but it had the opposite effect.

"Talk to me."

There was a moment of hesitation. Then the android half-turned, took Bulma's hand, and placed it squarely in the center of her chest. Her heartbeat was accelerated despite the tameness if their evening, and it drew a questioning look from the blue-haired woman.

"This only happens with you."

'Oh...' Bulma searched her brilliant mind for something to say to that and came up blank. The gravity of what the statement implied regarding her current relationship with Krillin made the air between them tense.

"And sometimes it hurts." Here, her expression became almost distressed and Bulma couldn't help but embrace the android.

"Does it hurt now?"

She shook her head. "It's rare. Just..."

"Just?" Bulma

"Just when I think about the future." The future, for an android at least, stretched on endlessly. What in particular could be troubling her? "I'll live long after Krillin or Chi Chi or you... Die."

Ah. She gave 18 a squeeze. "I think mortality is something we all think about."

"When I think about you in particular, it upsets me. Immensely." Blue orbs were shiny.

"I don't think it's a bad thing," Bulma began, choosing her words carefully. "It just reflects how deeply you care."

18 frowned thoughtfully as she released her grip on Bulma's hand. "... About you."

"Right."

"I don't remember ever feeling this much."

Her heart gave a happy little skip-hop. She wasn't alone, then. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The blonde turned her back to the other woman and settled back between her legs. This time, when Bulma embraced her from behind, she threaded their fingers together.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

It was hard to breathe. Bulma rested her forehead against 18's shoulder, her heart hammering against the inside of her chest. "Same..."she whispered.

"I love Krillin." Her voice was firm. "He saved my life."

"I know." And she loved Vegeta. But...

"... I'm not _in love_ with him."

That made all the difference.

Bulma hugged 18 tighter, screwing her eyes shut against the tide of emotion that pushed against the insides of her eyelids. The trust that the blonde placed in her was humbling, to say the least. To have 18 confide in her like this made her feel... Not special, but needed.

"You're shaking." Concern coloured her tone.

"I'm fine."

She wanted to cling to this feeling a little while longer.

...

They fell into bed together, still damp from their bath, in a tangle of limbs. The very same bed she and Vegeta shared. Once upon a time, the guilt that knowledge brought had gnawed at her.

Soft, pleased sounds escaped both women as their tongues wrestled for dominance and it was Bulma who won that battle, her wandering hands prodding and teasing sensitive areas that made the blonde mewl. Bulma buried her hand in damp locks, dragging her nails lightly across 18's scalp and the woman purred, kissing her back with ardor as she moved against the blue-haired woman. The silken slide of skin against skin was intoxicating, shockwaves of pleasure traveling along her spine as sensitive flesh met sensitive flesh.

In dim light that leaked in through the bathroom, 18's pale skin was almost luminescent and Bulma's breath caught in her throat. She cupped the android's cheek awe-inspired by the beauty of the woman she could call her lover, and the blonde smiled beatifically.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

She felt like a high school student with a crush, not a grown adult. What had started as admiration for a intelligent, strong, _beautiful_ woman had evolved into something much deeper without her being consciously aware of it. It was nearly impossible not to develop feelings for someone you spent the majority of your time with, apparently.

"You're beautiful, you know."

She could have sworn the android's cheeks flushed, but that had to have been a trick of the light.

"Thank you..."

Bulma had won the battle, but not the war. 18 flipped their positions easily and pinned her arms over her head, smirking as she loomed over the blue-haired woman. Her oral attentions to erect nipples drew throaty moans from Bulma's throat, each kiss and nip spreading heat through her wriggling frame. With her free hand, she toyed with pooling wetness, teasing Bulma until she whined desperately.

"18..." A groan left her as her whimpered protest was silenced with a searing kiss. She'd taken control of the situation so quickly and completely that there was no chance to regain her advantage.

The blonde smirked, slipping a few fingers inside easily given how wet Bulma was, and the soft cry the woman released encouraged her to pick up the pace, hard and fast.

"Wait..." Stilling her hips was one of the most difficult things Bulma had ever had to do and she couldn't help the whine that escaped her when 18 obediently slowed her pace to a shallow teasing.

"What is it?" Her tone was a little more brusque than was normal and Bulma was pleased to know that she was the cause of it.

"I know... Mm... this is going to sound strange, but can we take it slow tonight? You know... Make love?" It was something that had been on her mind a lot recently. Sex with Vegeta was always so rough, geared towards getting off rather than enjoying one another's bodies. 18 tended to employ the same approach, though her technique was far more delicate.

Blink. 18's expression went utterly blank and the inventor wondered for a ridiculous moment if she would laugh and belittle her.

"Make love?"

Bulma fidgeted, though she wasn't able to close her legs with 18 between them. "N-never mind... I'm just being silly."

Understanding spread across pretty features. "You mean like in those movies you like. I suppose I could find rose petals to spread around the bed and put on some sexy R&B... Do you have any candles?"

She was utterly serious. Bulma couldn't help but laugh and when the android looked confused, she laughed harder still.

18 really was such a gentlewoman.

Bulma kissed the android, pouring her affection into the contact, and the blonde made a soft sound. "What was that for?"

"I love you."

Blue eyes widened. "I... Love you, too."

"Show me," Bulma purred, smiling playfully.

This would be the last time they would engage in this affair, Bulma vowed, shivering ecstatically as her lover kissed her way downward, her fingers thrusting at a slower pace.

She was going to sit down and have a serious talk with Vegeta.


End file.
